Why Are You So Despicable?
by Pooroxification
Summary: England was told to capture Seychelles by his boss. He was reluctant at first, but he slowly realised that his possession of Seychelles might have affected him greatly... Sorry if it's a bit cliche. I am just writing this for fun :
1. Chapter 1

"On your feet now!" the blonde young man ordered the girl.

"And who might you be to order me around?" she, who had been beaten badly, obstinately answered back.

The burning of his chest increased. How can she still be like this, after all he had done to her? Is it just him who is incapable, or is this little Chihuahua just too noisy to handle? He wanted to beat her, beat her to death, he swore by the ghastly feeling in his chest that he did. Yet, he thought it over, what is the point? Killing one of your soon to be colony isn't going to help make your country any more powerful, is it?

"Ha!' he dramatically huffed, calmed from his splendid common sense. 'Such a small dog barking at a prestigious kind like me? A mere humiliation, this is!" He slowly neared the lady in front of him and slowly reached and tugged at her tousled mocha hair. If he couldn't kill, then at least he could torture. "You've made me angry, princess," he spat.

Her eyes were opened wide with intense horror. Never had she heard a sentence like that from him, never in the period that he stayed in here. She wasn't stupid. She knew that he was up to something…

At first, he planned to be grim towards her – scary, horrifying, untouchable. But he couldn't help it when she jolted at his remark. He felt the muscles of his face tightened as he tried to hold back immense laughter. Oh, why does it feel so good! Looking at this little girl before him, covered with blood, pale as ice – why did it bring so much joy?

_You think I care? _he snorted. He now looked at the girl, ever so intensely that it almost felt like his eyes were about to pop out from their sockets. The girl started to wince, but he wasn't quite sure why. He clicked his tongue. Since he was a sadist, he would have just taken that as her fear. "What's wrong, princess? Are you scared?" He smirked. "Has the Chihuahua barked too much and got bitten in return?"

Her eyes started to blur from the lost of blood, however, she managed to pant out -"Who are you calling a Chihuahua? You are the one who is weak! Bullying a small country while you're the weakest superpower yet. Have you no dignity?"

"That's it!" he growled. "I was going to spare you, but I heard enough!" He took out dagger from the left pocket of his belt. Just at that moment, one of his crewmen burst into the room.

"Sir, the boss has sent a message! He told us to bring that girl alive!"

He stared at him blankly, and then he frowned. He lowered his dagger and ran his fingers through his hair. "Fine, I understand. You are dismissed."

He saluted and carefully closed the door. England sighed. The feelings in his chest soon faded, and he scrutinised at the girl, as if the bad news came from her mouth instead of his crewman.

"Consider yourself lucky," he could only state, and he left the room with no hesitation, banging the door shut behind him.

Hello, I am a new writer here! This is probably my third fanfiction, so I hope for you to review! ^-^ (Note: *unleashing her true colours* PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! DX) I am going to immediately post another chapter, just because I am bored -_-; Anyway, did I mention how I LOVE this pairing! I just hope seychelles will appear in the anime so England can give his tsundereness to her ;P Oh, and did I mention that you have to review?


	2. Chapter 2

England could only rub his forehead when he realised what he had done to the Seychelles girl. _What the bloody hell happened to me?_ The one who hurt the girl was definitely not him. He had never tortured a colony before… well, not willingly. But why did the feeling of pleasure easily come when it comes to that ribbon-wearing girl? Sure, maybe he did call himself a sadist, but that was because he was caught in the moment.

"I shall avoid her as much as possible from now on..."

"Ara? Having trouble with women, are we?"

England jumped. He spun his head around, trying to see who had been sneaking on him. Oh, it was France. England's brows furrowed, annoyed. "Why are you here?"

"Eh?" France lifted his brow. "Why? Why wouldn't I be here? It _is_ the G20 meeting. I must be here, _non_?"

England averted his eyes away from France. He scanned his surrounding for further prove of his location. The familiar golden brown walls covered every corner of his sight; windows with mahogany frames – also something that he was familiar with – let in the basking sun light from behind them; the long, noble tables were draped with the whitest sheet, clean, with not a speck of dirt on them; along the white sheets lay the various kinds of cultural food and alcoholic drinks of the best brands. Yes, this is definitely the meeting hall, where parties before and after the meetings were hold occurred each year.

"So, I heard that another country has been in your hold recently, England-kun."

England quickly had his eyes on him. 'How did you know," he asked.

"It is not a secret, is it?"

A maid offered them a tray of glass of various coloured wines. France gracefully took one and bowed to her, winking as he stood right back up. England declined.

France sipped at his glass and continued, "Well?"

England idly watched the crimson liquid danced inside France's glass as France lifted it up again, drinking it down wholeheartedly. "Have you ever felt the urge to hurt somebody that you've never met before?"

France abruptly stopped drinking. He slowly withdrew the glass from his lips and simply stared at it. "No," he answered, "no, I haven't. Why?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but decided that it is best for France not to know about his troubles. "Nothing really important," he finally spoke.

"I see." France smiled, seemingly understanding.

England stared at the floor for a moment before declaring that he needed to head home. France nodded and waved goodbye. Suddenly America came.

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Ahaha, I just noticed that France became Japanese -_- .. Sorry, I somehow my brain insisted on France adopting Japanese habits. Please kill my brain. Okay, the next chapter is coming up next! Sorry if it is a bit long-paced for you because there's still no romance up to this point. Blame my brain for that as well, in fact, please keep hating it. Oh, and also please REVIEW! ;)


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh come one, England [hic]. It was only [hic] a few sips. Why [hic] do you have to [hic] be like this. G- [hic] osh!" America hiccupped complaints all through out the time that he was supporting England, who was limp and red, on his shoulder. He dragged England back to his house and kicked the main door open.

America wobbled up the stairs, not knowing why, since he could have just dump England in the living room and leave. But he felt the need to go up there, and go towards a specific door.

It wasn't like America to walk to that kind of door. It was white and plain and not decorated nicely. In fact, it was a little shabby. Nonetheless, he went through that door and found a blurry shadow. He shook his head, which didn't get his vision better as it made him dizzier than he already was, and looked again at the shadow. The shadow grew tensed as it sat on the bed, outwardly surprised by their sudden intrusion.

"A… Ah!" America stuttered. "Sorry for barging in. Um…" He squinted slightly to see that the figure that owned the shadow had two ribbon-tied locks. "Um… ma'am?"

"Yes," answered the figure, her cool, exotic voice surprising him.

"U-Um… can you do me a favor?"

He felt the lady nod.

"I know this will sound weird, since we've only just met, but please take care of this eyebrow jerk. I've got to go somewhere else important and I can't take him with me." _Or his reputation might go bad, not that I care though._

She hesitated for a moment, mulling over if she would or not. She finally smiled, pacing towards him and helping him carry England to her bed. She then took America's arm, leading him gently to the exit.

America blushed and gaped, as he had never been intimately touched by the opposite gender before, especially not by a beauty like her, he recognised, now that he could clearly see her. "Oh, you don't have to, ma'am. I can…"

"Please let me help you." She smiled softly. "Such an important and kind man can't be left alone when not in his best condition."

His blush darkened. "P-Please don't flatter me so much. And really, I can do this by-"

She giggled. "Silvouple*." Then she quickly covered her mouth, as if saying something forbidden. "I mean, 'please'"

He was confused. He wouldn't mind being accompanied by her to the car, he wouldn't mind at all, but he was afraid that she might notice his heart pounding so quickly and loudly beside her. _Ah! _he screamed inside his head. _It's just a freaking escort to the car! Why are you overreacting about it, America? _

"Ah fine!" he answered, irritated at himself.

Glossary:

Silvouple: Syechellois for 'please' (yep, it sounds French, because it's adapted from the French word 's'il vous plait')

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THIS TURNS OUT TO BE AN AMERICA/SEYCHELLES FIC, ISN'T IT? AAAAAAAHHHHHH! Please! Someone please kill my brain! It HAS to add something unimportant AND contradicting to the story, hasn't it? TT-TT But don't worry it is still an England/seychelles fic, no doubt. It's just so tempting to add America in the picture... and France I guess (france is like... a character that just HAS to appear at Seychelles' side, or at least mentioned in Seychelles' fic) So please comment. Burn me. Hate me. Scold me for all I care! Just please review! I DESERVED TO BE KILLED ANYWAY! Dx review review review review review review re... oh i cant be bothered.


	4. Chapter 4

_Uh… My head hurts… My arms hurt… My whole body hurts…_

_What happened?_

_I remembered attending the G20 meeting… Then I met with France… then I went home…_

_Or did I?_

_Ow, my head! What is happening to me? Have…_

_Have one of Alfred's aliens been experimenting on me? Ah! I need to wake up! Eyes, please open! I need to see if my premonition is correct. Please just for a little while! If it is not it, you could close for as long as- _

England's eyelids cracked open, just a little bit, enough to show England himself that nothing was wrong. He wanted to sigh, but the numbing nerves wouldn't let him to.

_Then, what was it then, that made me like this?_ He squirmed. _My God, this bloody headache!_

The world started to swirl and shine around him like a kaleidoscope of lights, not knowing that he was drunk, and still is. He found himself in a twisted world, and his lids slowly closed, like the curtain hanging above his head…

O,o,O,o

Seychelles swipe the curtains of her (appointed) room closed. After that, she sat on the floor, facing the gurgling Caucasian on her low bed. She wondered why that young man that brought England home in a state like that, and why he actually brought him inside her room. _Why not the living room?_ she thought. She had only accepted the young man's 'favour' because of how kind he was to bring this… this _person_ back home. To be honest, at first when she saw England in this state, she thought hat something bad was going to happen. Something terrifying. But now…

"Mommy…" England whispered.

… isn't this a good thing? Isn't she happy that she had the chance to see the Almighty England being like this?

"Mommy…" He curled up in Seychelles' bed, unconsciously drawing nearer to her. "Mommy… are you there?"

She was stunned. Had he been mistaking her as his mother?

Her hand reached up to his head. _What is he like around his mother?_

"I am here, h-honey." _I-Is that motherly enough for him to believe?_

"Mommy…" A small, serene smile appeared on his previously disturbed face. "Mommy, please read me a story."

Her brows crumpled in the most twisted of ways that anyone would have thought that her face had been a mistakenly-moulded piece of clay. What stories did she know? They were only folklores that her people have created. And if she were to tell him those, would he understand? Oh, England, why are you being so difficult? It is as if you are a spoiled little child…

She gave a tired smile. _He _is_ one. _

Then somehow, as if she had already narrated a story to him, he childishly croaked, "No, not that one, Mommy! The one with the seven little men. Yes, that's it, Snow White!" Then he mumbled, as if trying to put the name in his head so that he wouldn't forget – "Snow White and the seven dwarves… Snow White and the seven dwarves…"

She stared at him in awe. Is this man really England?

England continued to babble. "Good night, Mommy… Oh, Mommy, are you going away again tomorrow? Let's play Hopscotch once you get back. Mommy? Mommy, why are you so sad? What's wrong… No, Mommy, don't go! No! Don't leave me! Please don't go…" He started sobbing. Seychelles froze.

"Mommy… Why… Why are you like this… Come back… Wu… Why…" His sobs started to choke him. Two streams of tears started to flow on his cherry cheeks. His voice then suddenly changed, as if growing in age, fast-forwarding into something that had happened just recently in his lengthy life – "Why… You know I can't point my gun at you… You know I can't hurt you… Curse you… damn America…"

She gasped, feeling a lump in her throat, the exact copy of the one that clogged England's throat. The lump was so full of grief she felt herself trembling, struggling to support the density of its feelings in the deepest space of her neck.

"E… England, Sir?" Seychelles rigidly shook him, trying to wake him up, to cease his nightmares, and to cut the flow of sorrowful imageries going through her head. "Sir?" She shook him harder. "Please wake up."

England's eyes instantly snapped open, then he whined. He slowly blinked and looked around. At the moment he saw Seychelles, he shot up, eyes staring back in horror. He rubbed his eyes but realised the tears that had begun to dry on his knuckles. He attempted to cover his eyes from her, embarrassed that she would look, but she already did, much too long ago.

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Eh? Now, I am turning England into a crybay? Furthermore, I made this into and angsty romance fic? I am surprised that no one has killed me yet! D: WHY AM I LIKE THIS? WHATS WRONG WITH ME? AND WHY IS THIS CHAPTER SO LONG? AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! (Ah, sorry if you're tired of me trying to babble… I fail at babbling, complaining, writing, convincing you to kill me and many other things. Overall: I fail at life TT_TT) but please, spare this poor old me some hope. I… I… I really don't deserve all of you reading my story and notes, do I? ***getting depressed for no reason*** But please review! Your comments bring me to light, and I really appreciate them (thank you for the reviews so far! ^-^).

Dear KitakLaw – ahaha *scratches head in shame* I guess my fic isn't historically based. Sorry about that. The scenario that I was thinking is:

Little France arrived at little Seychelles and they become childhood friends. They played together and Seychelles grew to respect France which came to her mimicking him (as to the slightly accented French in the language of Seychellois Creole e.g. from 'Oui' (yes) to 'Wi'; 'Trois' (three) to 'Twa'; 'Quatre' (four) to 'Kat') then France suddenly went back to his own country because he was assigned to a dangerous mission, not knowing if he could handle it and not knowing if he would die. So he left without filling her in with the details, saying that he 'will see her again'. So Seychelles was alone and untouched, even when France had survived the mission and is well, until England came.

Yup, that's the storyline I had in mind (sorry that I didn't just message you because I also want other readers to know what I was thinking) Sorry that I confused you! ***bowing in apology*** V-V

Dear cross-over-lover232 - sorry that I made England a bad guy xD (Ah, I am apologising too much these days.) So, should I make an England/Seychelles fic or America/Seychelles fic? xD If you want me to make an America/Seychelles fic (a separate one of course, as I dedicated my soul into this England/Seychelles fic), you could tell me about an idea for it, because i can't think of any right now :P


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